


Finding Warmth

by CaffeinatedBunny



Series: Finding Series [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur takes care of Eames, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sick Fic, Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedBunny/pseuds/CaffeinatedBunny
Summary: Eames arrives at the door desperate and chilled to the bone, while the rain pours down and all he can think is that this isn't what he was expecting for a safe house that Arthur owns. With a shiver rolling down his spine as thunder rumbles overhead, and the wind howls through the tree's. Such a nice welcome and just his luck too; such as it is really.





	Finding Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withinmelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/gifts), [whirling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whirling/gifts).



> So this was supposed to be a flash fic, well two weeks later, and it's finally done. For [withinmelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/profile) and everyone on the Inception Discord who gave me encouragement, ideas and helped me with this fic that fought me all the way. Art done by the AMAZING [Whirls amazing art!](https://noitsnacktime.tumblr.com/image/185994141859) Please follow her and give her art so much love!
> 
> So Happy Inceptivarsary! Happy Canada Day here's a sappy Arthur/Eames fic.

Leave it to his luck that his plane touched down in Helsinki just as an early autumn storm arrived, by the time he made it through customs it was pouring. They sky had turned a swirling grey nebula as it rolled over the area and the water was bracingly cold, thunder rumbled overhead seemingly still off in the distance. The sight of it had him pausing at one wall of windows cursing vehemently under his breath. At least it was luck that could go either way at the moment and as long as he made it to his destination Eames would imagine that he’d be fine; sure in knowing that Arthur by now would be expecting him. Especially considering he had tripped so many of the man’s threads to give him notice. 

The rain and the cold sunk in deep as he was drenched quickly in the time it took him to dash out from under the awning and into a waiting car; quickly taking the keys from the valet cursing all over again. The half an hours drive from the airport to his destination on Lauttasaari would have been a pleasant one any other time but the fact that his seat was damp along with himself by the time he arrived. An unpleasant trip all around.

But the sight of the house sitting on top of a little hill with only a street between it and the sea shore was a surprise, considering he had been lead to believe that this would be one of Arthur’s safe houses. It wasn’t what he had expected; he had expected perhaps a condo in one of Helsinki’s top towers, or maybe an apartment in one of the trendier area’s not this peaceful more suburban-esk spot. Rolling up into the drive Eames takes a moment to finger comb his still damp hair out of his face, before turning off the engine. Grabbing up his carry on, he once more makes a dash through the downpour of rain towards the short staircase that lead up to the door thankful that the entrance way had an awning which protected him from further drenching. 

Knocking solidly on the wooden door he waits with a shiver to be allowed in; which thankfully didn’t take long. Though only by a sliver just enough for a glimpse of Arthur in profile before the door shuts enough to disengage safety measures. The other man opening the door just wide enough to let him through, a blast of warmth hitting him like an embrace pulling a sigh out of him unbidden. The entrance way was wide though quaint in its design; hardwood floors in a rich mahogany colour added depth to the deep jade walls. It was a far more rich design than Eames was expecting of a safe house, warm and welcoming when he had been expecting modern and nearly sterile. There was a staircase off to the right of him it’s two tone grey and pale cream banister and rails added some contrast to the space but what really got him was the subtle patterned stair-runner that softened the hardwood stairs considerably. 

“Hello Darling! Lovely to see you as always.” Eames can’t resist putting on the charm as he turns to Arthur only to feel his mouth go dry at the sight of the other man. He wasn’t wearing one of his signature suits; no and while the suits were lovely to look at and hugged the point man in all the right places… this was so much better. The jeans were a broken in pair soft looking from where they obviously been worn for ages, ripped at the knees combined with a soft deep heather jumper; Arthur was a vision to look at. What really got him though was the hair, the sight of it nearly had him swallowing his tongue. Soft, nearly fluffy as it curled about his head, it looked like a tousled mess; like someone had run their fingers through it for hours.

“Mr. Eames,” Arthur says softly as the final lock was slid into place and the houses security turned on once more. “Shoes off and follow me, your soaked through.” He continues before heading down the hall, leading him into a fully equipped mudroom that also opened up into a massive kitchen space along the opposite wall. A kitchen that was brightly lit and oddly in use? The dark hardwood floors carry on into the kitchen though the walls were that pale cream colour from the banister the cupboards were the same sleet grey from the railings. There was something simmering on the stove, the scent thick and rich, full of spices, that made the air smell like home. The beauty of the colour palette being used and so skillfully too was amazing and Eames was slow to realize that this wasn’t a safe house. 

No this was Arthur’s home. Arthur had given him directions to his home, not just a safe house, not a place he was staying. This was… well Eames wasn’t quite sure what this was to be honest. Their relationship was complicated and intricate; it was hard to say what this could mean after all they’ve been similar situations before. 

“Get in the shower Eames, and warm up you must be chilled to the bone having been caught in this rain. There’s a change of clothes for you and come to the kitchen once your done.” He says with a small shake of his head, before Arthur heads into the kitchen and shutting the wooden recessed doors to give him privacy. It took a moment for Eames to blink out of the stupor at the realization that he was in Arthur’s home, that the point man was letting him see this soft side of him. With his hair loose and curling, the softness of his stance and best of all Arthur had let him catch a glimpse of an elusive dimple. 

Giving his head a shake Eames lets out a breath before stripping as quick as his damp clinging suit would let him, once out of the ruined thing he can’t help the shiver that racks him as the air hits his clammy skin. Cursing once more he rushes to turn on the shower thankful that the water was quick to heat. 

By the time he was finished with the shower the mudroom was hazy with steam, but he was no longer feeling the chill down to his bones. He felt loose limbed, a bit like taffy having not realize how tense he had gotten during the drive to Arthurs; so dressing in the warm flannel pajama set that the other man had left for him. They were exceedingly soft to the touch, under the shirt and pants were a pair of thick woolen socks, the fact that Arthur was prepared for his arrival and for the weather was still a wonder; after all, how did the man know? Giving his head a shake he pulls open the double doors to the kitchen only to be caught by surprise at the sight of Arthur. The man was standing over the stainless steel stove an apron on over his clothes that spoke of habit and familiarity; the apron itself looked just as soft and well worn as everything he had seen so far. 

“Super will be a little while yet but there’s a bowl of soup and a mug of tea on the table for you.” The point man instructs him with an absent wave towards the small wooden table settled into a little nook that was surrounded by windows. The space would be cozy with a group of friends or intimate with just two, the soft blending of the two subtly different greys, and the cream of the space was broken up by the table which was a lighter shade of the same colour from the entrance way. A little distressed and worn down it was another contrast to what he had expected; the blend of modern and traditional somehow flowing seamlessly. The chairs and benches were plushily cushioned in a soft but durable fabric in the same pattern as the stair runner. Taking a seat on the bench so he could watch Arthur he carefully pulls the place mat with the soup to himself; there is something surreal about all of this. 

If he didn’t remember how he got here he would be checking his totem right now. Though Eames also knows that this is reality simply because before this moment he would never have been able to accurately imagine seeing Arthur in this sort of setting. He had never seen the other man in anything so casual as what he was currently wearing, never seen Arthur’s posture so casual… and his feet were bare. Arthur wasn’t wearing any socks as he moved around the kitchen on silent feel. 

Finally the scent of the soup pulls him out of his stunned wonder and his watching of the other man. Eames was sure that his staring could be forgiven considering the fact that he’s been infatuated with the other man for years and here he was seeing a whole new side of him. A whole new side to become enamored with. The bowl was filled with a thick tomato based soup, thick with fresh basil croutons and melting mozzarella cheese.

“You don’t have to go out of your way for me pet; I was more than content with just a safe place to crash. The last thing I wanted to do was to take advantage of our relationship like this.” Eames says honestly before taking his first bite of the soup only to realize how hungry he was. The flavours were rich and sharp the croutons just starting to go soft, the mozzarella just the right side of melted. 

“This isn’t an imposition Mr. Eames,” Arthur says softly as he places a lid over whatever was cooking on the stove. Eames watches as the other man finally turns around, the apron was simple but rich in colour as it hugs Arthurs form. “Eat your soup, I’d hate to see you get sick and then you can tell me what has you on the run so I can fix it.” The dark haired man finishes pointedly before he moves to sit across from Eames at the nook. 

“Where’s Cobb?” Eames wonders needing a moment to gather his thoughts, after all it was weird to see the point man without the off his rocker extractor. He takes another bite of the hearty soup, barely resisting the desire to simple inhale the meal hungrily. 

“Cobb is currently in Indonesia to cool off after our last job though from what I’m hearing from him we’ll have a new one here soon.” Arthur answers half heartedly with a shrug of his shoulders. The easy flow of information surprises him though it really shouldn’t. 

Arthur and himself have always been up front with each other, since working together during project Somnacin, having to trust each other to survive the sheer madness that the project entailed. That initial trust is what allowed them to get out and raze the project to the group, swipe the rug out from under the military. That led to more; tension, attraction, knowing each other so well and banked desire that their relationship was based on. While there was all that tying them together they had never met up at the right time to build more together; first they had to separate to keep each other safe while they released the knowledge of dream sharing into the somewhat public sector. They were always like two ships passing by in the night. 

But out of everyone that Eames knew, out of all his connections and those who owe him favours; Arthur was the one person Eames knew he could trust and rely on no questions asked. Which was why he hated to come to him with this current predicament as he would have much rather come to this place to actually start something solid and build with the point man. 

This moment here in Arthur’s house in Finland was just another such moment, a taunt of what they could have even as they could both feel the tension as life once more conspires to keep them from what they want. But Arthur was allowing him to see and experience this fragment of who he was; it still wasn’t the full picture but it was a balm to the wound once more not getting what they want. The silence settles comfortably around them as Eames finishes the soup only to sip at the now warm tea that Arthur had made, the nook feeling cozy and bereft all at once. 

Eames let’s his attention slide to the windows, watching the storm continue to pour down with the distant heavy rumble of thunder before he lets free everything that happened on the not so failed job. How the extractor had seemingly gotten killed off early in the heist and Eames making the choice to step in and carry on the job himself. After all the pay was worth it and it would have been such a routine job that there was no reason to let it fail just because the would be extractor was a pompous idiot. Turned out the extractor had decided that turning on the team to the mark for a higher rate that he didn’t have to share; which left Eames on the run from the Mark after sending what he got to their original employer. 

All in all it was a complete clusterfuck that left him on the run from a major oil conglomerate in the States, while the original employer does their best to protect their investment in Eames while going after the conglomerate. Which left Eames in dire straights and running for the airport to make it before the noose could find his neck. The nearly twenty four hour flights from Iowa to Marrakesh, a 3 hour layover where a text simply informed him that his connecting flight had changed and to pick up his ticket to Helsinki at the flight desk. Would have been far more stressful if he didn’t know how firmly he had Arthur in his corner. 

Finally turning his attention back to Arthur once his story was done he lets out a huff as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck; more than a little annoyed and embarrassed that he had left such a blunder happen. 

“I’ll need the names of your team and the companies involved but I should be able to get things sorted out; though you’re going to have to go to ground for a few months just to be on the safe side.” Arthur says easily enough as he shifts in his chair so that he was once more standing nearly at his side, his one hand resting on the table top as he gets lost for a moment in planning. Eames can’t help himself in reaching out and gently taking Arthur’s hand in his own. Lifting it slowly he presses a kiss to the other man’s knuckles before just resting his cheek against them; more than a little surprised that Arthur had allowed him such a forwards touch. Eames eases his hold on Arthur’s hand as it shifts in his hold only for it to move to cup his cheek gently soothingly; sighing once more he turns his head just enough to press a chaste kiss to the point man’s palm right before he fully pulls away. 

He watches as the man heads towards the other side of the kitchen pausing just long enough to hang up the apron before disappearing leaving Eames sitting a little lost at the nook. He drags his bottom lip through his teeth as he stays where he is for another moment, expecting that Arthur would be back in a heartbeat.

\- - - 

‘Eames, are you coming?” Arthur pauses in his living room from where he’s setting up the deep plush couch with blankets and the remote for the television that was mounted on the far wall, the deep rich hardwood floor was covered with thick soft rugs in the same pale cream that was throughout the main house. He had chosen the colour palate carefully when designing this home and Arthur couldn’t help but be exorbitantly pleased with the way it had come out. The richness of the deep warm brown and dark green, mellowed out and cooled down by the two shades of grey while the pops of cream lighten the otherwise dark palate up. 

The sound of soft steps against the hardwood has him looking up and watching as the other man slowly makes his way from the kitchen into the large living room; there’s a hesitance about him that Arthur has never seen in the Forger. The sight of it makes him smile once more as he moves to stand and make room for the broader man, for while they were of a height to one another Eames was quite a bit more broad through the shoulders and his chest. If Arthur was being honest it was the physical power that Eames held back then and now that had attracted him first and he doesn’t think that anyone would fault him for such an admission.

Eames while in the military had been honed with a fighters edge, muscles hard packed and in your face not out of vanity but out of necessity to survive in the harsh reality they faced overseas. Though when they had met during Project Somnacin that hard edge had already started to soften into the form that was before him, still strong and built but more with a controlled edge that the other man hid very well with his use of ill fitting suits, that hid the breadth and width of his shape. A subtle con that Arthur always appreciated and realized that not many in their line of work that figured out. 

He watches as Eames pauses a few steps into the living room, taking it all in, with a quick pointed glance at windows, entrances and Arthur’s own position in the space. A habit that they both had kept, after all why get rid of a skill that helps in keeping you alive, no matter that you seem to be in a safe space? Though the check happened much slower than he was used to seeing, there seemed to be a waver in the forger's attention. Perhaps he would keep the other man here for longer than he had already calculated. It wouldn't alter the plan too much besides it would be nice to spend time with Eames once more; just for a little while before life and needs must get in the way. 

“You don’t need to mother me Arthur, I can normally handle myself; current predicament notwithstanding.” Eames says with a sigh though that familiar amused smirk curves his lips easily enough. 

“Stop being contrary and relax, rest. It’s early yet no matter that the storm has it seem like it's well into the evening,” Arthur reassures the other man with a roll of his eyes, while he waits for Eames to close the distance between him. Reaching out he gently pushes the exhausted looking man onto the couch. “Watch some tv, nap, read a book, I don't care just Breathe Eames; I’ve got you.” He finishes as the forger blinks up at him in the same stunned way he’d been doing, since he had arrived. 

There was a glazed look in the familiar grey depths that had him a bit worried, frowning slightly he turns to the corner of the living room where there was a hearth that he tended to use during winter or storms like this. It doesn't take him long to build a decent fire that is quick to add further warmth to the room, the flickering light soft against the dark green walls. Once that was done, he takes a moment to roll up the sleeves of his sweater as he moves to the chaise lounger set across from the couch. Settling into the chair he reaches out for his laptop, though a sound from Eames pulls his attention back to the other man, brow already arching curiously.

The other man had curled himself up into the king sized microfleece he had pulled out with only his face peeking out. The television was still turned off leaving them in a comfortable quiet while Eames settled in and seemed to be content to watch him. "Arthur?" The cocooned man speaks up, once more hesitant in a way that the point man wasn't used too.

"Yes Eames?" Arthur wonders with a tilt of his head as he picks up his laptop and settles back into the chaise with a soft sigh. 

"Why Finland?" Eames questions, as he seems to wiggle deeper into the soft blanket and settles down to wait. Arthur can't help but sigh at the question he really should have expected but oddly didn't; there were a few ways he could answer after all property was an investment and a good one to make, a reason Eames would accept but know wasn't the full truth.

"My father was born and raised for the most part in Finland, so while growing up I spent a fair bit of time here with grandparents and that side of the family." Arthur finds himself choosing the honest answer before turning his attention to the work he would need to do. 

The rest of the night is spent quietly with Eames slipping into a light sleep, Arthur doing some work and making sure the simple dinner didn't burn. Once it was ready, he moves to check on the forger sleeping on his couch and can't make himself wake the other man. The exhaustion that creased his face were deep and only just starting to fade, and with a light touch Arthur confirmed the low fever that he had guessed at. So he let the man sleep after cleaning up the kitchen and leaving a plate in the microwave for Eames if he wakes up. Once all the lights were off he heads upstairs to his loft bedroom leaving the forger bundled up in the living room with the fire still softly crackling in the hearth.

\- - -

The morning dawned dreary and wet with autumn storms brewing off the coast, it was normal for this time of year and oddly enough on of Arthur's favourite times of year to come to Finland. The storm season had a lot of fond memories for him when growing up, with his father and grandparents watching the storms roll in from the ocean. Walking around his bedroom he pulls open the wall of windows drapes, uncovers the skylight before walking over the ledge that hung over the living room to check on Eames before heading down. 

The hearth had died sometime in the night, most of the living space was still in heavy shadows from both the storm and Arthur having pulled most of the drapes last night but the man in question was still bundled up on the couch. Smiling softly he shakes his head before padding quietly downstairs and into the kitchen. 

He doesn't bother pulling the recessed doors between the kitchen and living space closed, as he turns on the kitchen lights and sets about cleaning up the food in the microwave. Humming quietly in the back of his throat as he moves about the space easily with familiarity. First he starts the coffee before pulling the stuff he would need for two types of breakfast, something telling him that Eames more than likely wouldn’t be up for anything overly heavy this morning. Once things were set up, eggs and bacon warming up; he heads into the living room to physically check on his guest. 

The forger was still cocooned up in the microfleece blanket, skin clammy looking and shivers shaking him every now and then. Letting out a soft tsk of a sound he reaches up and carefully shakes Eames shoulder. “Eames, wake up.” He says just loud enough to register knowing how quick to wake the other man normally was, Arthur keeps his hand firmly on Eames’ shoulder as he does so. He can feel the moment the other man wakes, the subtle tension beneath his palm has him tapping their signal for safe against the tense shoulder. It takes a moment as the forger takes a careful breath before slowly relaxing. 

“Fuck, I feel awful.” Eames gruffly grouches with a huff as he shifts under his hand, so that he was laying on his back, Arthur’s hand now resting on his chest. The shift in position allowed him a better look over the other mans face, once more spotting the glassy eyes from the other night; now paired with a shine of sweat and skin swallow.

“You’ve been traveling for a while and the rain didn’t help. Come on Eames, up you get and come with me.” Arthur finds himself saying with a small shake of his head as he helps the other man up, slipping and arm around the trembling forgers waist to help keep him balanced.

“Where we goin’” Came the tired sounding question, as Eames leans on him; the heat coming off him was worrying but something that could be dealt with later. First was getting him upstairs and into his bed so the man could actually rest. 

“Upstairs and to a proper bed; how's your stomach feeling? Think you can handle something to eat?” 

“I think I could eat, stomach doesn’t feel upset; just tired, sore and can’t stop shivering.” 

“We’ll fix the shivering and the tired part soon enough here.” Arthur assures him with a small amused smile at the forgers grouching, while leading him carefully out of the living room and up to the second floor. The dark green of the walls slowly fading into the soft cream that was used as an accent in the lower level, at the same time the stair runner slowly became saturated with a deep burnt umber till it was a solid umber with just tiny hints of the cream in a subtle herringbone pattern. It was such a sharp contrast from the deep warmth of his living space into the bright warmth of his sleeping space, that never failed to make him fall in love with how his vision had become reality. Though it was easily influenced by the weather outside which was like a magic trick every time it happened. 

It was a short trip once up the stairs to get Eames into the loft area that hung partially over the living room; Arthur wondered how long it would take the other man to notice. Pausing at the side of his bed he pulls the two toned bedding back to bundle the shivering forger in and under the warm thick cotton sheets before pulling the heavy duvet over top of him. Once the weight of the bedding settles over Eames the man lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Peach pink and blush rose bedding darling? I never would have guessed.” The man murmurs as he pulls the duvet up even higher till barely his face was peeking out. 

“Most wouldn’t,” Arthur finds himself agreeing before walking over to the small hearth in the corner of the room to build a small fire there to help keep the damp at bay. The flickering flames eluminate the deep cream walls, revealing the more red wood flooring covered in a sprawling burnt umber rug. The room always reminded Arthur of the sun hitting a foggy autumn day, the colours muted and hazy in tone compared to the bright deep jewel tones of the lower level. “Rest up, I’ll bring you something light to eat as well as something to drink.” He tells the drowsy looking forger before heading back downstairs. 

Once back in the kitchen he pours himself a cup of steaming coffee with a soft sigh of pleasure before, turning on the stove to warm up one of the elements while he puts a record on. He knows how the soft classical music would float through out the house, and the heat from his cooking would warm the main floor nicely. 

Humming along with the music he moves around the kitchen easily, going about the familiar steps to getting breakfast on the go. Bacon, eggs, and a croissant for him sell and a small bowl of oatmeal for Eames along with a mug of tea the Englishman enjoyed most. Setting the bowl on the tray alongside his own breakfast and coffee mug, he pauses before taking hold of the tray with a huff of annoyance. It would be better not to allow himself idle fantasy of having more than this as of right now. 

So straightening out his shoulders he lifts the tray and heads once more up to the second floor, getting the lights as he does so. Letting the record player, play on; the soft violins fading into a distant serenade as he walks into his bedroom. Placing the serving tay on the right side nightstand before settling onto his bed beside the forger he reaches out and gentle shakes the man’s shoulder once more.

“I’m not asleep.” Came the sleepy grumble as the other man carefully rolls over to face him, pouting up at him from where he’s nearly fully cocooned in the blankets. 

“So I see, breakfast is ready; tea and oatmeal.” He informs his guest while watching as Eames takes his time to carefully sit up and get himself comfortable against the solid headboard of his bed. It’s a sight Arthur would love to see more but probably still wasn’t in their future for some time yet, not at least until he gets Cobb squared away. Once Eames was settled he shifts to set up the tray over the other man’s lap, taking his own meal into his own lap. 

The meal passes quietly between them as they both focus on the food before them, though Arthur makes a note on how much the other man finishes before pushing the bowl away to focus on the still slightly steaming tea. Finishing his own meal easily enough he sets his coffee onto the bedside table nearest him before moving to take the tray and dirty dishes back downstairs. Staying downstairs just long enough to put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and turning off the record player, ducking into the living room to pick up his laptop and a book before heading back upstairs. 

In the short time that he had been gone, Eames and settled back down into the bed, the duvet once more up and over the top of his head. Arthur was so glad he had gotten the largest duvet he could buy for his bed; with a shake of his head he settles himself on the bed beside the other man easily. Leaning back against the dark upholstered headboard while opening his laptop to do a bit more work on Eames problem. Setting up everything to deal with the problem didn’t take long, not with his connections at least, the only thing left to do was set up the forger up some place to keep low for a couple of months. He already had a destination in mind it was just the time frame in implementing the departure and arrival, sighing softly he closes his laptop and sets it aside. Shifting to put it on the bedside table before grabbing his book. Eames lets out a sound as his arm snakes out and hauls him back towards him. Arthur stares down at the sleeping man with a blink having not realized how close Eames had drifted in his sleep till right now.

Smiling softly he shakes his head slowly as he settles back into his position, opening his book one handed as the forger snuggles closer. The man’s arm was lax about his thighs while Eames head settled comfortably against his stomach, one of his thick legs tangling with his own. Taking a slow deep breath he relaxes further while opening his book.

It was easy to lose track of time laying there in bed with Eames wrapped around him, a fire crackling lightly in the bedroom hearth, rain gently hitting the windows and the rolling grey clouds outside muting the light of the day. Tranquil in a way that his working days never were, Drifting a bit as he reads his free hand starts to card through Eames hair, smiling once more as he doesn’t feel as much heat radiating off the man. The day drifts on for another little while before Eames jerks awake with a groan as he presses tighter against Arthur, his hand gripping his waist as he nuzzled his face into Arthur’s stomach. 

“Please tell me I’m dreaming and I get to have this forever.” 

“Forever would be limbo, wouldn’t you rather have this in reality?” Arthur wonders his fingers not stopping their caress through Eames’s hair, scratching his nails gently along the back of the forger’s skull. 

“But we don’t live in that reality, that reality eludes us yet.” Came the muffled reply as the man’s hand continues to clutch at him as Eames keeps his face pressed into his stomach. 

“It’s not a far off reality, just one last detour.” It’s a promise that Arthur is suddenly determined to keep to the man who’s wrapped around him so tightly. The longing and desire not to move from this spot sitting heavy in his chest; making his throat tight with desperation to have this in the future not for just a few days. 

“Just till the end of my having to go to ground yeah.” And it felt like an oath, a pledge to finally get what they’ve been wanting for years now; both of them in agreement that they had waited long enough. 

“Go to sleep Mr. Eames.” Arthur soothes his hand shifting to rest against the other man’s forehead, checking his temperature. “Your fever seems to have broken at least and I’m sending you somewhere warm once your healthy enough.” 

“What if I’m never healthy enough?” Eames offers up as he shifts his head just enough so that he could look up at Arthur. 

“Then I guess you’ll be stuck with me always leaving when Cobb calls.” Came his answers while fighting the need to smirk at the sheer affronted look that overcame the forgers face at the response. 

“That’s immensely cruel darling.” Eames pouted petulantly as he once more hides his face with a grumble against his stomach. Shaking his head in amusement, Arthur lets the quiet wrap around them once more as he lifts his book once more to continue where he left off. He manages a few lines till a finger pokes his side demandingly. “Can I have more of that soup from yesterday?” Came the question once his book was lowered. Rolling his eyes and letting out a sigh Arthur gently taps Eames shoulder pointedly. 

“You’ll have to let me up if you want it, you could have a shower while I warm it up for you.” He adds while pointing to the door in the corner of the bedroom furthest from the ledge of the loft. Eames grumbles but does as indicated, rolling off him and moving slowly to sit up. Arthur follows suit, slipping out of the bed and stretching with a groan before picking up his coffee mug. He waits till Eames was shuffling into the bathroom to speak a smirk once more curled his lips. 

“There’s some changes of clothes that should fit you in the top left dresser drawer.” He calls before heading downstairs to start in on the soup, once more pausing to put a record on while he moves about the kitchen. Heating up another mug of coffee while the leftover soup starts to heat in the sauce pan. 

“Darling, was your bedroom always a loft?” Came the call from Eames some time later making him laugh, that it took the man almost a day to realize. 

“Finally notice the missing wall?” He calls back loving the fact that the open living room allowed him to hear the man from upstairs. 

“Won’t guests be able to hear whatever you get up to in the dark of night?” Was the answering query which makes him burst out in laughter while stirring the soup slowly. 

“There’s no guest rooms in this place Eames, so no one to hear anything that happens in the dark of night as you so eloquently put it. “ He rebukes still laughing while shaking his head in amusement. “Come down, lunch is served-” a quick glance at the clock before Arthur amends his words slightly. “-late lunch but still better than nothing.” 

“Coming Pet!” Came the reply before the soft creak of wooden steps that the forger hasn’t learned yet to avoid. 

\- - - 

In the end they spent nearly two weeks together at his house in Helsinki, the first four days was Eames focusing on getting better from the over taxation his run across the globe had taken. After that it was them learning to move around each other in the space of Aarthur’s home, learn the intimacy of each others space and each other’s boundaries. Six days of lazing in bed or bundled up on the couch soaking up the closeness they haven’t been able to fully indulge in for nearly a year. The last time had been on a job in which they had to share tight quarters for a fortnight in Budapest. Arthur cooks for Eames, lets the other man watch as he arm knits the start of a massive thick fleece blanket. It’s domestic in a way they never got to be in Budapest, or any time in their past, it’s something that both of them want hungrily, longingly as they cling together. Then it was four days of getting Eames prepared to go to ground, his destination only known to Arthur, while Arthur prepares for his upcoming job once more with Cobb. 

The Helsinki airport was a bustling hub of people coming and going, both of them heading out of Finland, the house on Lauttasaari closed up for the time that Arthur would be away. He hands Eames a new passport along with a few other key documents that he would need while laying low as well as the information Eames would need to access his bank accounts. 

“Use these to get your boarding pass, this is your reference number; there will be a bike waiting for you at your destination, along with a new burner phone and a list of contacts if you need anything.” Arthur says easily as he stands beside the forger, pressed nearly shoulder to shoulder with Eames not wanting to leave just yet though his own flight was earlier that Eames’s. 

“Yes, yes Arthur; I’m sure I know what I’m doing no need to fuss pet, but I’ll miss you too.” Eames says, with a smug pleased smile on his lips. 

“I’m sure you will now behave, don’t get yourself into too much trouble and don’t make me come rescue you again hm?” Arthur can’t help but tease with a shake of his head before he shifts so he’s standing directly in front of the other man. They stood like that for a moment, eyes locked and taking each other in; Eames looks so much better now that when he had first arrived at his doorstep. Not able to resist it anymore, Arthur leans in and presses a quick kiss to the other man’s lips; expressing his longing, desire and care into the press of lips against lips before he has to pull away. 

“Take care Arthur, don’t forget about me now while your galavanting about the world.” Eames murmurs against his lips, his hand wrapped around his wrist loosely before letting him go. 

“Mr. Eames, if there is one thing your not it’s forgettable-”Arthur assures as he goes about fixing his waistcoat and jacket, before turning and heading towards the line to get through security; but after a step he pauses to partially turn and smirk at Eames. “-Now I did promise you warmth after the rain of Finland so enjoy Mombasa.” Nodding once to the forger and not wanting to miss his flight to meet up with Cobb in Hong Kong he carries on his way not allowing himself any more time to linger. No matter how much he would rather be with the other man, sighing he forces himself to focus on his travel plans for this new job and what little the fallen extractor had explained to him so far.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140464467@N05/48095966872/in/dateposted-public/)


End file.
